Still Alive | Fourth Wing/The Originals [1]

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎: 𝙵𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

𝙵𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

Rhiannon introduces Hope to Tara who she had met just moments after getting Violet and her name to the crossbow chick. Learning that she came from the Morriane province to the north along the coast of the Emerald Sea. Both her and Rhiannon spoke of their childhood obsession of dragons instantly clicking.

Hope didn't pay much mind to them. Waited for two hours for the ceremony to start. For all of this to end so she could get some damn rest. She was tired already. So fucking tired. The Basigaith bells chiming and the last few cadets enter.

Pancheck moves to the front, facing them all. Violet says to all three of them, "I think we're about to start."

Nodding in confirmation. Hope listens as Commandant Pancheck starts with a politician's smile, "Three hundred and one of you have survived the parapet to become cadets today." Talking with his hands. "Good job. Sixty-seven did not."

Tara left whispering, "I've heard this position is just a stepping stone for him, he wants Sorrengail's job, then General Melgren's." The same Melgren that had watched as the separatist's children were marked with their relic.

"General Melgren's," Rhiannon matches the whisper of Tara.

"He'll never get it," Violet says quietly. "Melgren's dragon gives him the signet ability to see a battle's outcome before it happens. There's no beating that, and you can't be assassinated if you know it's coming."

"As the Codex says, now you begin the true crucible!" Pancheck shouts his voice carrying over the estimated five hundred in this very courtyard. "You will be tested by your superiors, hunted by your peers and guided by your instincts. If you survive Threshing, and if you are chosen, you will be riders. Then we'll see how many of you make it to graduation."

Hope had heard from hurried murmurs from besides her of the possibilities of not getting chosen by a dragon and having to start all over again as a first year which only adds to the hostility of those wanting a dragon more prominent.

"Your instructor will teach you," Pancheck gave promises, hand sweeping to the line of professors standing at the doors to the academic wing. 'It's up to you how well you learn." Fingers dawning on them all. "Discipline falls to your units, and your wingleader is the last word. If I have to get involved..." A sinister smile spreads across his face reminding Hope of Jack's. "You don't want me involved.

"What that said, I'll leave you to your ringleaders. My best advice? Don't die!" Then he walks off the dais with the executive commandant, leaving only the riders on the stone stage.

A brunette woman with wide shoulders and a scarred sneer stalks forward. "I'm Nyra, the senior wingleader of the quadrant and the head of the First Wing. Section leaders and squad leaders, take your positions now."

Hope watched as several people began moving. People falling into formation leaving the first year cadets standing newly at their specific little area.

Violet whispers, "Sections and squads. Three squads in each section and three sections in each of the four wings."

"Thank you," Rhiannon answers.

Nyra calls out, "First Squad! Claw Section! First Wing!" She then instructs, "Cadets, when your name is called, take up formation behind your squad leader."

The one keeping roll putting names down begins to call out names one by one. Each cadet moves into their respective formation. Hope only pays attention to when her name is called out after Rhiannon and Violet, all of them in the same wing. Convenient.